Will I marry the one who gives me a son?
And whats there to inherit, Mr. Sultan, so well all race to bear you children like in those Turkish dramas? snorted Poppy.
A sagging sofa and half of Mums council flat, obviously, chimed in Blythe.
Nice bracelet, the girls muttered, though Dottie was getting tired of that line.
Especially in the washroom, she didnt want to hear it while scrubbing her hands, glancing at her reflection to check the lipstick and mascara shed applied on day one she wasnt sure theyd survive past the third lecture.
Thanks, she said politely, even if the comment was getting old.
Where do you all get these things? wondered the sophomore, who seemed to be a year behind.
Its handmade. A gift from a bloke, exclusive. No precious metals, of course, but you wont find anything like it elsewhere, Dottie said offhand.
Actually Ive already seen two like that today.
No way. You must be mixing them up. Maybe theyre just similar, Dottie guessed, suspecting that Maxs design wasnt born from scratch but lifted from some internet template with a few tweaks.
A novice jeweller would hardly manage the calculations without proper instructions, relying only on gut feeling.
No, theyre identical. Im sure of it. Lenas boyfriend from my course gave her one. He isnt rich, but he thought it up nicely you can tell she likes it.
Come on, tell me about her boyfriend. Whats his name?
Max, of course.
Have you seen him?
Not in person, no, but Lena showed us photos when she was bragging, the secondyear continued, oblivious to Dotties shift in mood.
She quickly unlocked her phone and held up the lockscreen picture.
Is that Max?
Oh the girl seemed to realise where the wind was blowing and fell silent, a little frightened.
Dont be scared, Im not going to do anything to you or your Lena. But with Max, the conversation might be a different story. Can you tell me who else has that bracelet? Maybe the same DonJuan showed up there, and we should warn the girl she isnt the only one.
I dont know her. Ive only spotted her wandering the campus, looks like shes from an upper year, but I have no clue which faculty or group. she shook her head.
All right, if you see anyone else wearing those bracelets, send them my way for a chat thirdyear economics.
I wont promise anything I cant guarantee theyll listen but Ill pass the info if I hear anything, the girl promised.
She kept her word; by the end of the day four more girls approached Dottie.
All from different courses and faculties, as if Max deliberately chose them so they wouldnt cross paths or learn about each other.
He hadnt counted on the fact that, once gifted the intricate jewellery, theyd all wear it to lectures, where identical bracelets would inevitably catch the eye of a nosy onlooker someone like the girl at the sink.
Whats this, a weekly set? Monday its me, Tuesday you, Wednesday her, and so on till Friday?
Then wed be seven, remarked the freshman Maren, dryly.
She was studying psychology and seemed to have the unflappable temperament the subject demands, not pouting like Blythe or overanalyzing like Dottie.
Angelina, a fourthyear, had already managed to phone her mum, three sisters, two brothers and even a secondcousin aunt, complaining with the same tired lines about mens nature.
The girls had no grievances against each other after all, each was unaware of the other fours existence.
They blamed the timing of their meetings on the lovers work schedule; they couldnt afford to socialise every day between lectures and parttime jobs, so a weekly facetoface seemed reasonable.
It had all been happening since the start of the academic year, which made sense Max had moved to their town this year for a job.
What to do about it now? They all agreed they needed to give the lad a lesson, but not by beating him up.
Beatings out, but we can embarrass him, the girls decided in unison.
Maren, being the most resolute, was appointed executioner, leading the victim to an unexpected rendezvous with all the fellow victims.
Since tomorrow was her day, they didnt have to wait long to set the plan in motion.
—
Hey, mouse, long time no see, Max greeted as usual at the café doorway.
She hugged him as usual, then pulled his arm toward the door that had just opened, muttering something about not standing out in the cold.
Inside, as Max walked in, four chosen ones waited at the first table, each with a newly gifted bracelet in front of them.
Come on in, Casanova, tell us how you got this far, Dottie snarked as Max, cheeks flushing, tried to stammer something.
And Im curious how did you plan to marry all of us when the law only allows one wife? Did you think you were so irresistible you could run a harem? teased Poppy, swinging a fork like a weapon.
Honestly, I was going to. Id marry the one who gave me a son. You see, thats the most important thing for a man a heir to carry on the family name.
Then whats there to inherit, Mr. Sultan, that we should race to give you children like in those Turkish dramas? Poppy retorted.
A busted sofa and half of Mums council flat, obviously, Blythe added. Congrats, youre now a local hero. Ill upload a video tonight to my socials and the uni group wherever it lands.
Youve got no right, Max yelled.
I do. Filming in public is allowed regardless of your wishes. Your face isnt visible, but Ill make sure everyone knows who you are without any claim on my person.
Future lawyer, I see, Maren, who had been silent until now, muttered. Ill advise you as a psychologist to sort out your cuckoo, then maybe start dating girls properly.
Or just get a implant and produce a son every year, and stay away from girls with your shortcuts.
As Poppy left, she accidentally knocked a hot coffee onto Maxs lap. Oh dear, sorry! she stammered, clearly flustered. The girls considered that revenge complete.
Word spread fast in a town of fifty thousand, and Maxs reputation went downhill once the truth came out. He wasnt likely to see anyone in that city again, unless he moved elsewhere for work.
Poppy, Maren, Angelina, Blythe and Dottie eventually became good friends, and each found better men than Max. In the end it turned out for the best that theyd all met and cleared the air.
It would have been far worse if hed led them on for months or years. All because of those unique bracelets. A bit of common sense might have saved the socalled Sultan a lot of trouble.
